Khan or not Khan?

Assalam-o-Alaikum! (May peace be unto you)

My ugly Duckling story!

You’ve all probably heard or read about the Classic “Ugly Duckling”. My story is sort of similar to that odd duckling. Walking down the street with my family, I tell you, no one can say that I belong to this family. They’d probably assume me to be a visitor–Seriously! Because, I have a completely different complexion, hair colour and my overall features resemble no one in my family.

The only thing that did somehow connect me to this family was my father’s statement:
‘You have honey-coloured eyes just like your great grandfather’ Apart from that, there are only those absurd statements by some people who think my younger sister and I are twins. That, I can assure you, 101% (with guarantee) is impossible.

On family gatherings and on visiting some unknown, faaaaaaaaaaaaraway relative (Sorry, couldn’t help doing that!) I’m often teased and hear statements like:

“No way…She's not of this family…”

“She definitely got exchanged in the hospital…”

While I smile awkwardly and think of giving a sensible reply, my sisters simply exchange knowing grins, showing me their teeth with a teasing air and mumbling: “We wonder where our real sister really is…”

Here is another similarity between the odd duckling and myself: Apart from being alien among our family we have taunting and resenting siblings –Terming my sisters as “taunting” and “resenting” wouldn’t be wrong :P, but I won’t say I’m not exaggerating! He he! Honestly speaking, my sisters are just fun to be with and are excellent mates to have Kung-fu fights with.

Anyway, leaving my sisters and going on to more “important” topics! (I love doing this!)
The idea of my being ‘alien’ had sank down at the wee part at bottom of the sea since a few years but surfaced sharply a few days ago, when my father announced that my younger sister and I had to go to the hospital to get our blood groups checked for the upcoming Hajj. This was a golden opportunity for everyone and soon the once-dormant idea about: “She’s not my sis! /She’s not my niece/She’s not my daughter!” began to take form again.

*Dramatic music playing*
I find myself walking down a hospital corridor towards doctor ‘doom’ with my sister and father. My younger sister, in fear of being pinched, doesn’t utter a word and therefore I am spared off any teasing remarks…

The doctor is there… standing with a giant-sized needle in his hand, laughing maniacally: *Muuaahhhaaa* His lab resembles a spooky, under-ground dungeon with skeletons and torture chambers. Hastily scribbled messages by the skeletons on the wall read: "Run away, while you can...! and "Beware of the Mad doc!"

As I enter, the door closes shut and I am left facing the lunatic doc and the hanging skeletons. I whimper as he advances towards me with the giant needle, his eyes rolling maniacally and his voice echoing off the walls “Come, my dearie…it won’t hurt a bit!”
Then, all I can see is the needle, a giant-needle…a very giant needle...

Hhhmmmm…Maybe I exaggerated this just a little bwittle. The actual thing was pretty simple and with a teeny meeny needle. The needle, though harmless, reminded me off my exams (we clip our exam papers with it). Anyway, back to the blood group…

Doctor ‘Doom’ inserted the needle-I gave a slight ‘ouch’ and that was it –Then, he spattered my blood onto three different drops of fluid onto the tile. This was it… the moment of truth! As my parents were both ‘O’ positive it was impossible for me to have any other blood group…If I did…Well, I’d better not think about that!

As my blood swirled in the three fluids, the doc mused and after having a look at the resulting mixture said, “Clotting…means your…err… ‘O’ positive!”

Wooooo hoo! No way was I ever an alien in the house! I proudly declare myself “Khan, Khan and Khan!”

*Sigh* I love the letter O!